Infinity Docking
by arthuhr
Summary: Alfred moves into a new school, hoping he won't be such a dumb nerd like in his old school. He of course, meets Arthur, a "back of the class" type kid who's not as uptight and edgy as led on to be. They become very close friends, but what happens when one of them falls for the other? USUK (Writing this along as I go.)
1. Chapter 1

Okay I had this uploaded before, but the fact that the paragraphs weren't spaced right was making me really mad. So here it is again! My first USUK fic ever.

Anyway, hope you like the story!~

* * *

After two days of living inside of a Uhaul truck listening to nothing but the sound of tires brushing over cement and my dad singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody, we finally pulled up in front of the apartment complex my dad had probably looked up online a week before leaving.

The apartments were scattered into separate buildings, I noticed as we drove into the parking lot past the sign that read Links Village Apartments. We'd be in building 10, apartment 2, the last building near the creepy looking woods. It didn't take us long to unpack everything, since we barely bought anything along to begin with, so dad and I settled inside a few hours later on the wooden breakfast table that I had once tried to dismantle with plastic knives and a pack of gum when I was younger.

"I never thought I'd say this Al," My dad looked down at his coffee mug across from me as if it was a disappointing child. "But after drinking this every 3 hours to stay awake, I'm sick of it."

I laughed lightly. "God forbid you're sick of coffee!"

He smiled and brought the mug to his lips. Sometimes I wondered if it felt weird to have a mustache and drink something out of a mug.

I didn't start going to school until a week later, when the new semester started in January and after visiting the school numerous times for registration. This school was smaller than my old one, and once I walked through those doors the first time with my head held down and my Captain America drawstring backpack behind me, I knew I'd be talked about for the next few days or so.

I really had hoped it would be different this time. Dad only got glimpses of what happened in school sometimes, mostly because I'd end up being sent to the principal's office with some arrogant football player with virgin eyes for fighting outside of a science classroom, but dad never realized why exactly I kept getting into fights with other kids. It wasn't the reason my dad wanted to move, but it was the reason I didn't protest against that decision.

After ending up on the other side of the school when I was supposed to be in first period English, I finally found the right door numbered A102. I almost didn't even want to open the door since I knew everyone would shift their seats to see who the fuck just walked in here.

It was exactly like in the movies when some weird, out of place looking kid walks into a classroom and the teacher just has to point out that they have never set foot in this classroom before and how they're now an exhibit for living in a different state. Apparently New York sounds a lot more intriguing to people that I thought it would.

Then that part happens where the teacher, in my case a lovely lady named Ms. Jackson, tells you to sit near someone and it's like choosing a death sentence. After I didn't move for a second she pointed to the back of the room where I noticed a kid with green messy hair and a leather jacket with pins all over the front.

I placed my backpack on the desk next to him and could feel the stare of a thousand nuclear missiles against me, coming only from the boy beside me. I guess I was sort of attracted to him in some way, like in the "you're kinda hot I guess' way but there was no way I was going to speak a word to him. He seemed to have some sort of weird hatred towards me, like my face pissed him off or something.

He ended up being in several of my classes. In chemistry I sat behind him, correcting every student's stupid answer to a question under my breath and excessively taking notes. I hated notes like any other lazy teen, but science was the only time I could tolerate them. I learned after paying close attention to attendance calls that the boy's name was Arthur, and no one really talked to him. He just listened to his music in one ear and maybe sometimes fell asleep, teachers didn't seem to care when he did.

For the first few days at Rowling High, I just kept to myself for the most part. A few or more times girls with long hair and mascara would ask a question like "Are you from New York City?" or "So you're from Manhattan?" and I'd have to explain to then that there are literally two land masses that make up the entire state of New York and that no I was not from Manhattan. I used to think it was easier for guys to adjust to a new school and gain friends, but they all probably thought I wanted to suck their dicks or something so they didn't exactly want that in a guy friend.

After a week, I told myself I really did have to make friends. Well, rather my dad said I should since my last school was a huge dick to me, so the only person that came to mind was Arthur.

In English on Monday, Arthur fell to his chair and wrapped his arms around his head on the desk and fell asleep, so I had missed my chance there. Then again talking in the morning is like trying to pull a giant brick off your mouth, so I waited until Chemistry to tap his right shoulder in the beginning of class.

He turned around, lifting an eyebrow like he was being touched by the hands of someone who wasn't as smart as he was. I smiled apologetically and swallowed hard.

"I like you!" I blurted out and quickly realized that was probably really fucking weird when said aloud. "I mean, I think you seem nice? In a friend way? Not that we're friends, well we could be! Only if you wanted to, I would understand if you don't!" I laughed hesitantly a rubbed the back of my neck.

Arthur sort of furrowed his eyebrows together and had his head tilted slightly, sort of like he was amused and confused at the same time. "Alright."

"Alright what?"

"Alright we can be friends, Alfred, isn't that what you asked?" He asked sarcastically.

I smiled brightly and felt my face heat up for being stupid. "Oh yeah, well uh… That's nice."

He turned back around once the teacher stood in front of the classroom calling for our attention. He slid a piece of torn notebook paper to me with his phone number on it (well what I'm hoping was his phone number) and I tucked it into the pocket of my jacket.

This time around I'd make sure school wouldn't be a living hell for me, because now I had Arthur. Even though I just met him, even with his lip ring and heavy boots and my glasses and chipped nails we could still be good friends.

* * *

AN: First chapter! I really hope you guys like it enough to leave a review! owo


	2. Chapter 2

So this is the farthest I've gone so far in a fic actually, so here's chapter 2!

Enjoy~

* * *

Of course, kids at school started to realize I was a bit different.

I mean, I was okay. I passed classes just fine, didn't speak up too loud, and for the most part I just tried to ignore others. Apparently, even just ignoring people was a huge giveaway that "Hmm… I think there is a homosexual among us.."

People think that New York is more tolerable with comic book nerds and anal sex, but I didn't live in the city. I didn't live where the girls wore nicer clothes, or where guys had at least some tolerance to the thought of maybe some dudes like dicks in their face. Upstate was like a different world compared to the Island, meaning less porn and more good christian morals. Well, at least where I had lived.

Dad seemed to have intricately picked a town in PA that would be anti-gay or "anti anything that isn't what we accept and are," so after no seeing anyone in the halls holding hands with the same sex at school, I knew it was going to be that kind of town. Not like dad probably knew it would be, he didn't know I was gay. Also he liked to blindly do things without making sure of things like what fucking town we're selling our souls to.

The kids at school gave me weird looks from behind their lockers in the hallways, or while I was washing my hands in the bathroom. (Apparently that's a crime) Arthur didn't seem to notice though, or if he did, he didn't seem to care.

"How many of those shirts do you own?" He asked me sourly in English class one day.

"These?" I pinched the end of my favorite Captain America t shirt I got at the Disney store. I almost cried when they had adult sizes. "I have about 3 with good ol' Cap on them." I smiled at him, hopefully he would see how awesome it is.

Then again, he could also just shake his head and lean back in his seat, his feet on the basket of the desk in front of him. Ignoring me for the rest of the period.

I think that's sort of how he liked to socialize, just a few broad topics here and there. Still, I didn't feel like we were really building a friendship. I watched how guys normally interacted, and besides the punches and dick jokes, they seemed pretty close and loyal to each other. I didn't know why I felt Arthur would be a good friend, still, I wanted to know more about him.

"What are you doing later?" I asked him in Chemistry after two periods of boring classes.

"Going home…?"

"Haha, me too." Dammit.

"You take more notes than I do," He was turned around in his desk in front of me, looking upside down at my full page of notes. "I almost thought that was impossible for someone to do." He smirked.

"Well, I like science." I replied, to which he 'hmm-ed' and faced the front of the room again.

I really had hoped he hadn't found that strange, I didn't try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Still, we still silently acknowledged each other's presence.

On my way to the buses after the bell for the last class rang, I found a dollar hidden inside the pocket of my Bomber jacket. This jacket never seemed to fail me in times of hunger, if that makes sense.

I stopped by the vending machines in the lunchroom across the main staircase, sliding my dollar into the slot and praying it'd actually work this time.

"I'm going to laugh if it doesn't work." I heard a familiar voice say behind me, from the smug English accent I could tell it was Arthur.

"Shh… It's concentrating."

If you've never ordered anything from a vending machine, and for the most part if you're an American with an impatient complex of hunger you have, it's like waiting to see if a college accepts you or not.

The bag of Doritos hit the glass and my entire life flashed before my eyes.

"Aw, come on!" I whined and gently punched the glass as I heard Arthur behind me laughing for the first time. You'd think hearing someone's laugh for the first time you'd be happy, but he was just cruel.

"Arthur, you jinxed it!" I yelled as if someone had just died in my arms.

"Oh calm yourself, Alfred. This is probably it's way of welcoming you to Rowling High." He smiled evilly at me.

"I… I think I might've missed the bus too." I said, looking around me I noticed the small crowds of kids had gone, and only a few sports clubs and other teachers had stayed behind.

Arthur had noticed as well and had a look of concern at me. He rolled his eyes and sighed and my misfortune.

"Would you like to walk home with me?" He asked,crossing his arms.

I felt myself heat up in my entire body. I smiled excitedly but I wanted to make sure he'd not take it back. "What?"

"Are you deaf as well as blind? Come home with me." He began walking away slowly to the front entrance of the school.

I agreed and rushed over to him. I'd have to call my dad to tell him where I was, but I could do that once I had a phone in front of me.

Arthur lived almost two blocks away from the school, meaning two blocks of what would be like 5 in Manhattan, so it was pretty close. I liked walking through neighborhoods most of the time anyway, it sort of reminded me of childhood. Not mine exactly, but in general, suburban houses make me think of the 1950's, Golden Retrievers, and children.

The streets were completely flat, and even though it was January, I couldn't see any traces of snow from the past week or so. Thinking about it, I asked Arthur what his favorite weather was and he said rain.

"Not the heavy, downpour that bangs your window while you're trying to sleep," He told me, his black messenger bag slapping his leg with every step. "More like, the rain that sort of drags your eyes down and makes the end of your boots wet. Also the sky would be completely gray."

Now that Arthur and I were talking more today than we ever had before, I started to like the way he talked. He sort of had an Abraham Lincoln voice but more sarcastic and British sounding. I told him that after a silence, and he just lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, you sound like a bowl of oatmeal," He improvised. "Crying."

Arthur, the punk kid with green hair, an ear pierced and a lighter in his coat pocket just made a really childish joke.

And I think the real reason I smiled was because I started seeing him differently than anyone else had probably ever had.

* * *

AN: So I'm really on a roll with this fic, I really like writing in Alfred's POV. Most of the time I write in Arthur's, but I always make him too loose. Kinda makes me sad since he's my favorite character ;-;

Anyway, please leave a review! I love receiving critiques on writing actually, so go for it uwu


	3. Chapter 3

Next chapter! This one's pretty short, and I'm really scared I might've dragged on with it, but I promise the next one will be better!

* * *

Arthur's home was like a perfectly knitted sweater from your grandmother. The furniture looked regularly cleaned, and the dining table was in the kitchen. I didn't expect Arthur to have some underground base with cigarettes everywhere as a home, but his house seemed perfectly normal to me.

When walking through the hallways or staring at the walls in the kitchen, there would be paintings of vintage looking things or photographs of London. My dad never liked hanging artsy things around the apartment, so most of what was framed on our walls was old photographs of the family. The oldest one was probably one that we found in the attic of my great uncle's house, the photo in black in white of a man with a clean shave and a women with her wavy hair in a barrette smiling at each other. Dad blew the dust off the photo and said those were my great-grandparents during the 1930's. That was also the day I found a worn out, brown bomber jacket. I'm still hoping that maybe by freshman year of college it'll fit perfectly.

"Don't you need to call your dad or something?" Arthur asked me as he heated up something on the stove. "The phone's over there." He motioned with his index finger.  
After calling my dad to tell him everything was fine and that I would definitely get a ride home, (Arthur would made sure of it) I slid into one of the dining table chairs.

"My mom will be home soon," He said as he sat across from me after handing me a cup of tea. "She'll bring you home. She might get lost though, make sure she knows where she's going."

I ignored everything he had said to stare down the tea he placed in front of me. I did not like tea. It tasted like a soulless creature dying.  
"You don't have to drink that if you don't want to," Arthur said, noticing my disgust. "I just offered it to be polite."

I pushed the tea cup away from me. Arthur was really nice when he wanted to be, I noticed. Most of the time in class it just seemed like he tried to hold back every critical sentence held inside him, like maybe one day he'd just blow up in English class like "You fucking idiots are so incredibly stupid and I hope college rejects you because you are immature and unfashionable." Something like that.  
Arthur started putting the dishes away in the sink, washing them, drying them and putting them back in the cabinets.

"So you guys are from Britain?" I asked still looking at the photographs by the dinner table.

"Gee, how did you guess?" Arthur replied monotonously.

"What? What do you mean how did… Oh" I mentally slapped myself. I really tend to point out the obvious.

Arthur laughed lightly. "Yeah, we're English. I moved here in like… 5th grade."  
"That's pretty cool, I lived in New York my whole life." I told him. Arthur finished the dishes and sat in the chair next to me instead of across from me. "Well, except for now I guess."

"Yeah, moving sucks doesn't it?" He said looking down to his finger nails and bringing them up to his mouth to bite them.

"I guess."

We looked over to the front of the house after hearing keys jingle and a door open. It was all really messy sounding, I could hear heels clacking, a purse being thrown on the hardwood flooring, and a generic Nokia ringtone going off.

Arthur's mom entered the kitchen smiling, with her brown hair up and messy, a giant tote bag on her left shoulder and a phone in her right hand.

"Hi Arthur and friend!" She said cheerfully. I can tell Arthur didn't get his personality genes from her.

"It's Alfred." I told her with a smile. His mom seemed like a really nice person, but one of those nice people that if they hated you they would punch you in the throat. It would be smart not to cross her.

"Alfred." She repeated, putting all her other purse things on the kitchen counter.

"Mom, I just cleaned that." Arthur stared at the counter like his dreams died. She apologized and ran upstairs with her things after closing her introduction. She had told me to call her Rachel instead of Mrs. Kirkland because she hated formalities. She also said she really liked how the blue hoodie I was wearing brought out my eyes.

She drove me home and almost got lost on the way, but it was nice because she kept talking and trying to learn things about me like where I had moved from and generic questions like that to ease that weird awkward car ride tension. She told me really was really glad that Arthur had had a friend over, if even just for an hour. I could tell she really liked him having friends because apparently Arthur doesn't socialize all that much, but that wasn't a surprise.

In school, Arthur and I started actually talking to each other in class, or waving at each other in the hallway. People didn't really give me weird looks anymore, unless I did something that seemed really gay like going to the bathroom because apparently that's strange, but with Arthur it was just easier to handle.

I thought about what his mother said, and I was really glad I had become friends with him too

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, I love reading them!


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** I** wrote most of this just now, so it was done pretty quickly! **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"See that girl over there, Al?" My dad motioned his head to a girl over by the counter ordering a salad. She had short blond hair, was tall, and a bit chubby. "She looks nice, whatdya say?"

"She's really pretty." And she was, but not in a "I'm going to ask for your number and never text you back" kind of way like how my dad was thinking.

"Got any girls at school your interested in?" He said in a very fatherly tone as he folded his pizza sideways and took a huge bite of it. Between the two of us, we could finish a whole pie. I don't mean those small slices you get at Dominos, I mean New York style. I guess in a way it was really manly to eat a lot, but then you sort of end up becoming like my dad. Trying to get rid of a beer belly at age 40.

Sometimes I'm not sure whether to look forward to that or start ordering more plates of salad like that blonde haired girl wearing overalls did.

"Al? Any girls?" He repeated after I spaced out.

I didn't know what to tell him. My hand almost shook trying to reach out for my soda. Sometimes I could tell the difference between Pepsi and Coke, this was not one of those times.

"I guess, I don't really know any of them well enough." Did that sound gay?

He laughed in a non-teasing way and set down his slice on the grease-filled plate. "You nervous? Believe it or not, I was nervous when I first spoke to your mom."

My dad didn't like to talk about my mom, she sort of left without warning. Something about my dad not being good enough for her and she slammed the door in his face, taking all her things. I remember that distinctly, it was the first Wednesday after my 10th birthday.

I guess he missed her too.

"Oh?" I straightened up. "What happened?"

"I ended up throwing up on her shoes." He smiled fondly.

I choke on my drink.

"Total ladies man move there, dad!" I laughed.

"Yeah.." He fake coughed. "So your friend? What's he like?"

Absolutely awesome. "He's pretty cool."

"That's what I like to hear." Dad took a drink of his iced tea.

I wish I was more honest with my dad, maybe I could tell him I'm gay and that I do chores 10 minutes before he gets home because I was too busy watching Doctor Who and looking up when the next comic-con was. It's not that dad's a bad guy who would hold a grudge against me, but I'm afraid he'll start treating me differently. It's like when you get your haircut after having the same style for years and people have to "get used to it."

Sometimes I feel like just getting on a bus and telling the person next to me everything about my 15 years of living, them not being allowed to say a word. Just sit there and listen to everything I had to say, no matter how much they probably didn't care. I could be like Forrest Gump or something, but less inspiring and not as attractive.

That night I unplugged the phone from the kitchen counter and set it up by the nightstand beside my bed, I was holding the paper Arthur gave me the first time I talked to him, his phone number. Now that his mom new me (maybe his dad did too), it'd be easier to explain why I was calling her son at 1 am. Friends do that right?

Thankfully it was Arthur that picked up the phone.

"Really Alfred? It's 1 am. You better be dying." He complained after that first awkward exchange of "Hello?"

"I am though, Arthur," I placed my hand on my chest and sighed dramatically. "Dying to be with you."

I heard him coughing like he swallowed his spit and could tell he was smiling. The thing I loved about making Arthur laugh was that it was a lot more pleasing than making a whole crowd laugh. Also, his laugh was very posh-sounding and really nice to hear. Except right now it just sounded like his goldfish died and he was crying about it.

"Alright," He breathed. "Why'd you call me? I'm rereading Macbeth and he just killed the king."

Its Saturday and I sorta miss you in the most innocent way possible? "My dad's asleep and I'm wide awake."

"Go to sleep."

I turned off the lights and hid underneath my blue bed covers. "No."

"Fine then." That's when his smartass self thought it'd be funny to start reading that dumb Shakespeare crap out loud.

"Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep," the innocent sleep..."

"Arthur no."

"Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,"

"I'm going to punch you." I yawned with the phone at my side on the pillow.

"Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast-"

I never thought I'd ever hear a voice I could fall asleep to. No matter how much I hated that I did, it was like jumping off a building with a smile on your face and the stars shining brighter than they ever could.

I woke up again three hours later after Arthur finished reading, being all butthurt that I had fallen asleep on him.

Now, waking up to that same voice yelling at you felt like being french kissed my a lawnmower.

* * *

**AN: I hope you liked it! I'm having fun writing as Alfred. I can use my humor with his narration.**

**Also, I have a tumblr ( ) just for my writings, and on there you can find other things like poems, drabbles, and one shots. **

**Please review! Thank you for reading :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Yesterday I almost started to reread Butterfish's American Dreams in an English Village but I started crying to much so I decided not to. I thin everyone should go read that if you haven't! I cry just thinking about it. I don't know why I'm saying all this.**

**On with the story I guess!**

* * *

"How about this?" Arthur placed the headphones over my head, his eyes fixed on me as he waited for my approval of his CD of the Sex Pistols. He said his parents used to listen to this music, around the time his mom led protests against anti-nuclear war in the late 70's early 80's. That's how his parents met, he told me.

"It just sounds like noise…" I told him in all honesty.

He looked at me like I just cursed out his religion. "What do you listen to then? Britney Spears?"

Yes. "Well, just whatever's on the radio."

He sighed like he had no more hope for me and shifted himself beside me. We were leaning against one of the walls of the second floor of our school, the outside where the roof is and where teachers couldn't spot us.

I realize that makes us sound like some sort of forbidden couple wanting to make out during classes, but really we were just hoping not to get written up for ditching math to hang out. I had 4th period AP geometry, and on my way there Arthur pulled my hood and dragged me up here against my will. This is the first time I ever ditched a class, and it felt adrenaline rushing. Like in The Breakfast Club when they leave the detention room and try not to get caught by the principal.

Arthur was completely chill with it though, he probably did this regularly. It's not like his grades went any lower, he was smart enough to keep them up.

I really liked the view from the roof, the brick wall behind us sort of hurt to lean against, but we could see the sun rising. Or whatever the sun does at 10 am, I haven't taken Earth science yet. Point is it looked really pretty over the cold, bare trees. They looked almost frozen and I would give 20 bucks to the next person who licked them.

"Its really cold, I can't wait 'till summer." I said to myself as Arthur reached into his bag for a thermos of hot chocolate that we ended up sharing together. It warmed us up when all I was wearing was a blue hoodie with a long sleeve button up underneath and he was wearing a leather jacket with black jeans.

Arthur tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned his head on my shoulder. I was too scared to move even an inch because I didn't want him to think I didn't want him burrowing his face on my hoodie, because honestly it felt like I was on top of the world.

We stayed like that for a few more minutes until we heard the bells ring for passing period. He didn't want to skip AP English and I didn't want to miss our new lab in Astronomy, but I think for that moment we had together sipping hot chocolate and listening to English punk bands I would miss going to the moon.

Once I got home from school I called my cousin Matthew. We had sort of a strange relationship where I hated every single fiber of his body because he was a huge dick, but I also couldn't function without him.

"Matthew? It's Alfred." The phone was still in my room from when I had called Arthur, dad still had yet to figure it out.

"Geez, Al, have you hit puberty yet? You sound like someone just kneed you in the crotch."

_Listen here you little shit. "_Fuck you, Matt. I need help. I met a guy."

"Good job, Al. I don't care." I could practically hear him patting himself on the back. We hadn't talked since I first moved in, and in guy code when you miss someone a lot you have to be the biggest douchebag to them once you guys start talking again. It's like saying "wow, I haven't made fun of you in a while so I'm going to make up for it by insulting you in every sentence that comes out of my mouth." That's what real love is.

"I think I like him." I spat out.

"Ask him for the D."

"You advice sucks."

"I love you too, bro."

"Fuck off. And by fuck off, I meant tell me what I should do." I was getting really desperate now. I wasn't even sure what I wanted anyway, did I want Arthur to be my boyfriend or something? Was he even gay? If I told him I started liking him, would things change between us?

That last thought scared me the most.

"Hmm." Matthew pushed up his glasses. Well, I couldn't see him but he was. He does that when he's thinking or when he wants to get a closer look at some girl's ass.

"Alright here's what you do," I was paying attention now. "You drop something on the floor, anything. A pen."

"Okay..."

"Then, pick it up. But not just like how anyone would pick up a pen, you've gotta bend and snap."

I paused from pacing around and stared blankly at nothing. "Matt... You're really dumb."

"I grew up with you, didn't I?"

That's when I hung up on him. I wasn't mad at him though (just insanely done), I actually really missed talking to him. Somehow his stupid humor seemed to ease my tension with anything, kinda like when you're in a crowd of people and you finally see someone you know.

That night, I was almost fully asleep when I woke up to the sound of something tapping against my window. I tried really hard to ignore it by pulling the covers over me or crushing my face with my pillow, but it didn't stop. Finally I went to check it out.

Apparently Arthur thought it was a good idea to knock on my window in the middle of the night, once I opened up the blinds I saw him standing on the other side of my window wearing a winter jacket. His face looked really red from the cold.

I let him in by opening the window and pulling him by his hand inside my room. I gestured that my dad was sleeping in the next room over, so we couldn't make any sounds. Instead, we talked in almost whispers.

"Are you okay?" I asked looking at him.

Arthur looked around my room, I could he didn't like how messy it was, and how all the posters on the walls had superheros on them. I even had a Blink 182 poster that came with their Enema of the State CD.

"Yeah, my parent's are fighting though so I needed to get out." He took off his jacket and threw it on the floor, he noticed the chair by my desk and sat in it to take off his shoes.

Ever since I met Arthur, I saw him as someone who was a lot more polite than what teachers thought he was and who was also more friendlier than how other kids saw from his irked face. But I was seeing Arthur with his boots off, the blonde hair at his roots of green hair and his guard off from the cold. I was seeing him escape his own home, the bushy eyebrows that weren't pierced and looked like giant bugs, and the gap between his front teeth.

I started to know Arthur for who he really was. A messy haired kid who liked reading Shakespeare and got confused with Rubik's cubes.

"I hate it when parents fight." I told him, trying not to remember the way my parents did.

"For real." He climbed into my bed like he fucking owned the place.

In the morning I told my dad Arthur had come over because of family problems, and he was cool with it (he just made arthur call his parents so they wouldn't worry), being glad to have finally met Arthur as well. Mostly he asked him really generic questions like what books did he like and what did his parents do for a living. (The good things is he didn't ask about his hair or clothes) Adults are really boring like that. They don't really talk about anything else except for their kids and the economy.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This didn't go the way I planned at all. **

**I hope you like it! **

* * *

It was already the middle of March that Monday after Arthur slept over, the thing I really hated about March was that it was a fucking teaser. 'Wow it looks sunny out today!' 'Hahaha you punk slut it's still 30 degrees, put on a fucking coat.'

The other thing I hated about spring was allergies. I had no idea what I was even allergic to, I guess the sudden brightness of natural lighting was something my body could never get used to.

Going to school the next week, I felt like shit. My eyes felt swollen like when you stay up too late at night, my nose felt like a clogged toilet, and my ears felt like someone stuck cotton into them. Very attractive, I concluded.

Arthur laughed every single time I sneezed. Some people can sneeze and it sounds like a normal sneeze, someone's says bless your beautiful soul and its all over. Most girls have that really adorable sneeze that sounds like a kitten and you just want them to snort pepper so you could hear it again.

Mine made the whole room stop because it sounded like a train crashing into a brick wall.

As if awkward stares weren't enough, Arthur couldn't control himself and would just laugh at me smacking my face onto the desk from me covering my face and jerking forward.

"Bless you, Al, you poor soul." He'd say through biting his lip.

People at school even started to associate us together. The New Kid and the Freak. Sometimes guys with overly sized sports bags would call us faggots, or gays, or homos. (Really, they never got creative with their name calling,) But since Arthur didn't seem to care, I didn't either.

The first time though I was at my locker by myself hearing guys talking behind me, loud enough that I knew they wanted me to hear, saying things I don't want to repeat. It sort of gave me a flashback from my old school, and that made my heart race so hard I felt it pulsating in my ears. I wasn't going back to that, I didn't want that again not ever again I didn't want the black eyes and broken glasses back at all ever again I wasn't going back to that. It was supposed to be different this time, wasn't it?

Just when I felt like I was going to scream, I noticed Arthur leaning on the locker beside me. He had a curious look on his face, probably wondering why my hood was up and why I was hiding my face as much as possible. He calmed me down by just being there, so I learned to ignore things just like he did.

It really was better here with Arthur, it made me realize how much I started depending on him.

On my way to my 8th period class, (Genetics with a really boring teacher, but thankfully I actually liked science enough to pay attention) Arthur slapped a paper on my drawstring backpack with tape to leave it on. Worrying about if it said something really stupid or not, I quickly ripped it off. In quickly written script than even if it was a bit sloppy it was better than my handwriting he wrote 'come over yo.'

I looked behind me in the almost empty hallway to see that heavy black messenger bag slapping against Arthur's leg, and his green hair almost fading. I hadn't been to his house again since the first time I was their meeting his "clumsy as a toddler" mom. We actually never really did hang out outside of school, I made a mental note that we probably should more as I shyly walked into class late and almost got written up for it. I almost heard someone say I was busy kissing my "boyfriend" goodbye, but I tuned myself out once I heard that and slipped into the very back of the room to the seat with nazi swastikas, another word for the female genitalia written, and just penis everywhere on the top left part of the desk. Straight guys could be really fucking gay sometimes, they can't go one day without drawing a dick on something.

Arthur met me outside of my class once the bell rang about people rushed out the school like they were Andy in The Shawshank Redemption leaving solitary confinement. Arthur and I walked to his home together, just like last time. Only this time, we were a lot louder.

"Al, I don't think burritos can withstand that much lava."

"What?! But how will we have them after the Earth starts melting and we're all watching from spaceships from Mars or something?!"

"Maybe they'll be people there who know how to make it? Why should you worry about that, you'll be long dead by the time that happens. Maybe burritos won't even exist."

I stopped dead in my tracks. He looked back at me confused, as if what he said hadn't hurt. But it did.

We continued arguing about the color of my socks and wether or not Arthur should dye his hair again. (I told him not to, I liked his untidy blonde color better)

We finally got to his house and he unlocked the door, still facing me because he was criticizing that "stupid, infuriatingly annoying cowlick that makes me cringe internally every time I look at you" while I tried really hard not to bring up his eyebrows because I knew that would've made him suffocate me with his green hoodie. I was smart.

We stopped our weird, pointless arguments as we climbed up his steps to his bedroom, the farthest one on the right side. I almost felt sort of honored as he opened the door with the "KEEP OUT" sign on it written in blue crayon with the second E facing the wrong way. It reminded me of my "HERO'S ONLY" sign in the house we lived in with my mom in NY, written on crumpled notebook paper and stuck halfway up the door with Scotch tape.

His room was surprisingly messy, even though his locker is sprayed with lysol almost everyday. The walls had posters of bands from the UK and a TV poster for Doctor Who with the 4th doctor on it. I'd have to talk with him about that one of these days. There were books everywhere too, and broken pencils. Lots of empty goldfish packs around the trash can, very attractive. The blinds on the window were lopsided, I could imagine him getting confused trying to fix it and just huffing away once he realized he couldn't fix it.

"You can leave your stuff anywhere." He said throwing his bag on his bed the same way you wouldn't throw a newborn baby. He sat in his desk chair and swiveled around as I crashed onto his bed.

"You know what's in these?" Arthur held up one of the notebooks underneath his desk, each one of them different. The one he was holding had a puppy on it, kinda looked like he bought it at Target.

"Poems." He said simply, looking through the notebooks. It sort of sounded like a confession, the way he said it.

I clutched one of his pillow into my arms, it smelled like hair gel and saliva.

"I watch Bill Nye every summer."

"That's... not surprising."

"I also tried to play the guitar at one point with my dad. I got impatient though and sorta gave up." I stared up up the ceiling now, with my head on his pillow.

"My mom wanted me to play the flute." I could practically hear the disgust in his voice. "I would've been the only guy playing flute if she had forced me."

"I once stuck this girl I hated's flute down my pants."

He laughed. "Geez, Al."

"I'm also really allergic to nuts, and pollen. And spring."

"I have OCD."

"I'm.. scared of ghosts."

"I'm an NSYNC fan."

"I'm gay."

"What?"

"What?"

I sat up so quickly the low ceiling light smacked me in the face and I screamed because I hadn't realized it was actually there.

Through loud cursing and throbbing head pain that felt like getting shot, I heard Arthur laughing like that time I lost my Doritos to the vending machine.

I'd have to give him hard time about that.

And through the mess of getting my head seriously injured, I almost forgot what my last words were before falling backwards onto the bed again.

Shit, I had actually said I was gay to someone for the first time.

* * *

**AN: I'm uploading this very quickly since I should be sleeping right now! So I'm sorry for any errors in anythign at all, please leave a review! I'll see it in the morning! uwu**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: It's literally 2 am. I have to wake up early in a few hours.**

**I wrote stuff though.**

* * *

The impact from the lamp wasn't enough to knock me out of course, but I seriously almost prayed that it did. The only other person who I knew I gay was Matthew, and the only reason that was for was because he told me I was. I guess it's sort of like, wearing a huge stain on your shirt and not being able to see it until someone says it's there. But maybe it's different for everyone.

I turned to my side on Arthur's bed to face the wall, his laughing sort of stopped after I didn't want to face him. I felt the weight of him at the end of the bed, I guess that he came over to sit down.

"Al, did you die?" He shook my leg.

I sat up in front of him, pretty close to his face actually. Enough that if I was a zombie he'd be really dead right now.

"I should really throw out that lamp..." He said looking behind me at it. "I also uh... Maybe shouldn't have told you that."

I was really confused now. "Told me what?"

"That I have OCD, it's not too bad though," he said. "Sometimes I have to do things in a certain order or routine I guess. For example, I have to eat skittles in a certain color order. It's pretty stupid."

I never imagined Arthur being embarrassed about something towards me, I always felt it would be the other way around. I don't even know how we even started confessing the first things that had popped into our heads, to be really honest though the last thing I expected from him was being a fan of a 90's boy band.

"I think that's okay." I wasn't smiling exactly, but I tried to sound uplifting.

He smiled though, not like the smirking he normally does like when I'm the one to get yelled at by a teacher for talking.

"Thanks, Al," he said awkwardly, then patted me on the shoulder. "And I think being gay is okay too."

Fuck, I had almost forgotten about that. I felt my face heat up but I caught myself smiling. Someone actually saying that out loud sounded weird, but felt right, like getting stabbed in the tongue with ice cream.

"Thanks." I replied.

He bit his nails as he started talking again. "Do you want to go to the library?"

I crinkled my eyebrows and tilted my head. "Uh, sure."

He smiled excitedly, switched his dark boots for some dirty white sneakers and swung his messenger bag on his right shoulder. Arthur was sort of comical in how he looked, thick eyebrows and slightly crooked bottom teeth. His fingers were awkwardly lean and so was the rest of his body, especially without that leather jacket on. Sometimes if you got close enough you could see his chapped lips and light brown freckles, probably handed down to him by his mom.

I laced up my shoes and followed him downstairs to the front door, he had left his keys on the table by the side of the living room couch like he always does, and we left to the library.

I still had yet to go anywhere in PA except for Arthur's house, Rowling High School, my apartment and a few gas stations, so I was looking forward to getting to know another place. The library, to no surprise at all, had a shit ton of books. There was only one floor though, and not a lot of people were there except for a few adults reading about European history and little kids getting shushed at by their moms. It was really just a regular library, I mean, there wasn't any confetti releasing when we walked in, but when I looked at Arthur's face, it might as well have.

Arthur pulled out his wallet from his bag and put the library card in his pocket. I think his library card was like his weapon of choice or something.

We didn't stay there for too long, mostly because after a few seconds of taking in my surroundings I got really really bored. I didn't exactly share a passion for obscure literature like Arthur did, well, not books at all. I tried to explain to him that it was because I couldn't focus well enough to sit and read quietly, but I don't think he believed it, since he just said it was very childish of me.

We left with Arthur's books in his bag and a promise of stopping somewhere for ice cream so I could shut up while he read the summaries on the back of some book on World War II. After noticing the types of books Arthur gets, along with the music he listens to and the clothes he wears at home, I've come to conclude that Arthur is a very interesting person.

As I sat there with my ice cream cone inside the shop since it was still too cold to stay outside, I wondered wether Arthur ever thought I was interesting. I mean, both of us were really different. He gave strangers cold shoulders while sitting at the table and always looked like he wanted to punch something in the face, except for when he was reading. I tried to smile at everyone I meet, and could never just stop tapping my foot. But then again, I did start noticing things about Arthur that we had in common. Like how most of his pencils that I borrowed were chewed up like mine, and how our laughs sound like dinner plates crashing on a hardwood floor. Also we both had some air of "awkward weirdness" like when I would accidentally stutter when asking someone a question or how Arthur was sort of lanky especially when he wore skinny jeans and his eyebrows were always just... there.

I guess our differences and similarities just sort of complimented each other, like we had just enough differences to argue for hours yet enough similarities to understand each other. It made me feel like he was really my best friend.

….

"So, he was chill with it?" Matthew asked through having to chew 10 pretzels all at once. Even though it was over the phone, I always somehow knew what he was eating. Most of the time it was pancakes or pretzels, both always drowned in maple syrup.

I had told him most of what happened the last time I was at Arthur's, maybe twisting the truth a little. (I told him I had told Arthur I was gay and I didn't say absolutely anything about it being a tongue slip or when I caused myself physical pain with a ceiling lamp) I also asked him if he would ever come visit me and maybe I could introduce him to Arthur, but he just said maybe. Matthew never really liked being in small towns, so it was always my dad and I visiting his family in the Vancouver.

"Yeah, I'm kinda glad about that." I unconsciously started twisting the telephone cord.

Matthew stopped chewing, and there was an odd silence. Like that kind of silence after someone tells you there's no more slices of pizza left.

"He's a really good friend." He said and I heard a pretzel break.

"I think so too."

"But you want more than that right, bro?" He asked. "Why haven't you like, slapped his ass yet or something?"

"What the fuck why would I do that?!" I felt my face heat up.

"Why don't you do the thing?"

I threw myself onto my bed faced down.

"No."

He sighed. "Al, do _something_ at least."

I hugged my pillow tightly and hung up the phone, throwing my sheets over my head without really moving the rest of my body. I was still wearing the my shoes, my sweatshirt, and my glasses, but I really didn't feel like moving at all.

I didn't want to consider Matthew's suggesting of kissing Arthur. I mean, I wouldn't even know where to start and it'd be really awkward for the both of us. I wasn't even sure if he liked me or not. It'd probably ruin our friendship if I kissed him, and I really didn't want that.

Like, yeah, maybe kissing him or holding hands or doing couple-y stuff seemed nice, but most of the time I just loved _being_ with him. We could make each other laugh easily, even though I might have to poke Arthur's face a few times before he cracks a grin, and I just really loved making him smile like that because he's someone who barely does it and I want to be the person to change that.

I buried my face into the pillow again just thinking to myself, _shit, I actually really like him._

* * *

**AN: I should really try going to sleep now.**

**Leave a review please! Hope you like the story uwu**


End file.
